


Work From Home

by Saturnbear



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, But like in the tma sort of way dont worry, Canon-Typical The Stranger Content (The Magnus Archives), Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Inspired by Brian David Gilbert's "Earn $20K EVERY MONTH by being your own boss" Horror Short, basically that video but what if it was a tma statement, canon typical spooky content, check notes for content warnings!! pretty standard tma stuff but do be cautious, if you haven't seen the video it'll read like a normal spooky tma episode!!, no context is needed, original episode, takes place in early season 2, wait dont scroll this is interesting I swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:34:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27510877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saturnbear/pseuds/Saturnbear
Summary: MAG045.5 - #0151201Statement of Brian David Gilbert, regarding an at-home job offer from a Mr. Dorian Smiles. Original statement given January 12th, 2015.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 30
Kudos: 57





	Work From Home

**Author's Note:**

> So here's a dumb little project I never thought id finish!! I started this idea as a little practice with the tma statement writing style, but eventually it managed to become the length of an average episode. Figured id post the result. So, please please enjoy my first fan-written episode of The Magnus Archives!
> 
> (Shout out to the Night Vale Nation discord server, and to my partner for being some very fun beta readers)
> 
> _____
> 
> (Content Warnings: Body horror, minor isolation, natural disaster (blizzards), desperation.)

_[CLICK]_

**ARCHIVIST**

Statement of Brian David Gilbert, regarding an at-home job offer from a Mr. Dorian Smiles. Original statement given January 12th, 2015. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.

Statement begins.

**ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT)**

It started a few years ago. My living situation wasn’t great. I had just finished college a few years prior - see, and I wanted to find a place to live outside of my mother’s house in Baltimore. I had come to New York in hopes of finally finding a job, and found myself only being able to afford a dingy third floor apartment at the time. I hoped I’d be able to move once I had a steady paycheck. But it turns out, finding a job in New York is a lot harder than it’s given credit for. It didn’t take long for my funds to dwindle. I was living on cereal for half my meals, and it felt like I was hardly making rent each month. I only say this because I need you to understand that I was _desperate_. I _needed_ a job and I was willing to take whatever came my way, I didn’t care anymore. And soon enough, he... contacted me.

The message showed up in my inbox late. I forget how late, I haven’t bothered to look at that first email since I was on the job. The subject line read, quote - “SMILE!! HERE’S HOW YOU CAN EARN $20K EVERY MONTH”

Now, I’m not stupid. I know a scam email when I see one. I should’ve known better than to open it. I _did_ know better. But I opened it anyway. Curiosity, I suppose. I remember what the email promised. It talked of a successful young businessman who had managed to climb out of poverty with the help of his new boss, all by working at home. The story wasn’t anything special. Just another rags to riches story of some one-in-a-million “entrepreneur” type, rich with grammatical errors. Still, I’d be lying if I said the words didn’t ring with me a bit. But that isn’t what really caught my attention. What stood out was the job description at the bottom. It explained the job consisted of transferring spreadsheet data, a few hours a day, with no prior job experience needed.

Work from home. Set your own hours. Be your own boss. Signed, Dorian Smiles.

I knew it was too good to be true. But I guess I was just desensitized at that point. What’s another lousy job application, I surely must have thought. I didn’t think much of emailing back explaining my interest. I hit send, and closed my laptop to turn in for the night. I didn’t think of it again until I checked the following morning.

When I looked, he had responded. And I was surprised, to be quite honest. I opened the email, to see it was rather sparse. It contained a couple images, grainy scans of some papers. They contained the bare minimum information on Dorian I would need if he were to become my employer. Address, contact information, the works. Below that, were two Drive files. Both were labeled as '01.12.88 Spreadsheet', followed by some seemingly random symbols. I downloaded them, relieved to realize they weren’t a virus of some sort. It was when I opened them that things got weird, though. They were filled randomly with nothing but these- _bizarre_ symbols and characters. Symbols that didn’t seem to _mean_ anything. I don’t think a lot of them were even ASCII. I knew the job wouldn’t be normal, hell, I had just realized I never signed or sent any of my own paperwork and I was already being sent sheets. But I wanted to give Dorian the benefit of the doubt. I like to think it was just the desperation talking. I emailed him back, explaining that the files sent must have been corrupted. I also asked him about when I’d be put to work, if he was planning to do so.

He didn’t respond until the next day. The reply consisted of another two files, and the message “TRY AGAIN. BACK AND FORTH” in capital letters. I was confused, obviously, and opened the files. They were the same as last time: bizarre symbols scattered across these massive spreadsheets. I remember I just stared at them. I tried typing, and sure enough I could. Didn’t do anything but add a couple characters to the chaos. I tried copying the symbols and moving them around. Moved them from line to line. From sheet to sheet. It worked just fine. Nothing behaved oddly. It was all just filled with these damned _symbols_. I was ready to write it off, I thought it was a wonder I made it this far. I was ready to think it was just another shitty scam. I didn’t bother emailing back. What was another failed job application for the pile, right? So I didn’t think about it for nearly a month. Not until the money came in.

It was the 16th, I think, when I realized about eight-thousand dollars had been wired into my bank account. I was in awe. I didn’t even connect it to Dorian’s “program” at first. I thought someone I knew must have sent it. My mother, maybe? I didn’t make the connection until I checked my inbox. I had a new message from Dorian, with the subject line “GOOD JOB”. The email itself read surprisingly normally. It said he was grateful for me starting his program, and that I needed to work just a bit harder to get paid further. Below, he attached another two files, same title and same composition as the others. I mean, I was shocked. How was I supposed to react? I hadn’t done or signed a single thing, and I was just paid a frankly _insane_ amount. I knew I should’ve pressed further. Emailed back. Asked a few questions, at least. But when you’re as desperate as I was, this sort of opportunity is big. So I didn’t bother to question him at first. I just opened those spreadsheets and did what I had done the last month. I just copied those lines of symbols back and forth. For an entire day, I just moved those lines. Back and forth. 

I still had my doubts, of course. And I still had a hell of a lot of questions. I feel like I should have been more relieved to have what looked like a source of income. But when I got another ten-thousand in my account the next month, I was only more confused. Surely this wasn't legal?

That being said, I continued the job. For a handful of hours a day, I’d put on music and move these symbols from one sheet to another. And apparently, it worked. Didn’t hear from Dorian again, and on the fifteenth of the month a random sum of money would be wired into my account. Didn’t do anything to satiate my curiosity, though. It should go without saying that I eventually gave in and emailed Dorian. I asked him what should have been basic questions. Stuff like; am I legally hired? Who else was hired? What purpose did the spreadsheets serve?

He never responded. That confirmation email was the last one I got from the bastard. I still wanted answers, but soon enough it became clear I wouldn’t be getting any from the boss-man himself. So I waited. I went back to work, two hours a day, moving random lines from one sheet to another. All I could think about while working was how the hell this could be adding value to anything. I tried to rationalize it! God, did I try! But no matter what rabbit hole I fell down, I couldn’t find an explanation for _anything_. Eventually, the fifteenth came, and I was watching my bank account like a hawk. And soon enough, like it always had, the money came in. I had my phone ready. I called my bank, and they picked up remarkably quickly. I asked them where the money came in from, and if I could get any details on the man that transferred it in.

It’s the confusion in their voice that stuck with me. They told me that they had done as I asked. That I had finished transferring the money into my own account.

I asked for an explanation. They told me that I had just finished transferring money from my account with a separate bank into this one. You need to understand- I don’t have another bank account. I never have. I told them this! I told them I didn’t have another account, that this just- it just didn’t make sense. The confusion grew sharper, they told me that they had just spoken with me over the phone. That I had just called and had the money transferred. I tried to question further, but the banker didn’t have anything more to say. It just didn’t make sense to me. I mean- what the hell was that supposed to imply? Something illegal had to have been going on. It _had_ to.

But what was I supposed to do? Quit? Even if I wanted to, I’m not sure I’d ever be able to sleep properly. Oh yeah, this is when the insomnia began to hit. I had it rough. I was finally financially stable, but that need for answers just ate at me. I was only working for a couple hours a day, but all other hours I was too busy thinking about the job to get anything done. I couldn’t stop thinking about who Dorian could be. I tried to take my mind off it. I bought myself things, instruments, mainly. I tried to turn to music and art to fill time instead. But that didn’t manage to do it, not really. I carried on like this for over a year. Eventually I gave up on buying myself fancy nothings. Wasn’t worth it. Not like it could make me stop thinking about Dorian. I mean, the guy apparently had my name. He even had my _voice_ , according to my banker.

I want to think I stayed out of fear. That it was the fear that kept me up at night, not the curiosity. Not the nagging desire to know who- god, _what_ Dorian was. But I know that’s not true. And eventually; I gave in. I still had the first emails Dorian sent, including the one with his tax information, and his address. It was right outside Center, Nebraska. And it wasn’t like I was lacking funds for a long-due house move.

I bought myself a Subaru and put my first payments on a house in Center. I knew it was a stupid move, but more than anything, I needed to meet Dorian. Just see the man. To know he was real, I mean, I refused to believe he wasn’t. Something was waiting for me, and I was going to meet it.

It’s a quaint little town, Center. Quiet, definitely. Far quieter than New York. Everyone seems to know each other. I thought it would come in helpful when trying to find Dorian, so I asked around for the guy, showed the address and everything. And want to know what I learned? What the wildest part was…? The address hasn’t existed since 1888. It used to exist, as a remote cabin outside of Center, but it got wiped out in some massive blizzard. _(Softly)_ It’s just a wooded area now. 

_[PAUSE]_

That wrecked me. I was truly, truly, almost ready to write it off. To accept I had been wrapped into something cryptic and illegal. _(Slight pause)_ But you can probably assume why I stayed. You have to understand- It was the only lead I had! It was my last chance at getting to it! So... I bought myself hiking gear. I needed to see for myself that nothing was there. I needed any closure at all. God, I wanted to sleep. So I ventured on out, the little traveler I was. Didn’t take long to get dark out. You never notice how quiet the woods can get until you’re out there that late. Guess I always thought there’d be some kind of noise you could hear, but it’s dead quiet. No company, no white noise. Just the sound of your heartbeat and your muffled steps. It couldn’t say how long I was walking, must have been over an hour. A long, blurry span of quiet rustles and my beating pulse. The trail was shaded from the dead trees, cutting off what little light I still had. 

My breathing was ragged. I remember that clearly. You don’t think about your breathing sounds, y’know. Not really. Not until you first hear it a few yards ahead of you.

I saw myself. Another me. Hunched, convulsing in a clearing. My breathing was irregular, forced, and god, it was _loud_. I stared. I turned off my light and watched my quivering figure. My- the other me- his spine was curled, each vertebrae clearly outlined against the muddied office shirt.

I didn't think as much as I should, but still I called out to me. Something simple. Reflexive. ”Hey.”

It didn't bother to look up first. Instead, I saw myself slowly coil upwards. As if no part of his body properly sat with another. Its head sat motionless as its body uncoiled. At last, I looked him in the eyes. The beating of my heart was loud, but its breathing was louder. I stared him dead in the wide, wide eyes. Its body wracked with shivers. Stunted, jolted shivers. It stared at me with a look lining between terror and thrill. I took notice of its moving immediately. I stared back, as it raised two convulsing hands, slowly, to the face. The labored breathing was cut off as its hands clasped around its mouth suddenly, eyes growing somehow wider.

I watched its movements. It shook violently, but never turned or looked from me, never taking its hands from its face. I held my own hands in front of me. Carefully, as if asking a question, I raised them to cover my own mouth.

Its eyes never left me, but its quivering grew. It changed. No longer did it look as if it were convulsing from fear, or inhumanity. It looked like it was laughing. As it ripped its hands from the face to reveal a wide, wide smile, I let down my own hands.

And I tried to scream.

_[PAUSE]_

Well, there’s what you wanted to hear. Sorry I couldn’t give it into your fancy old recorder like you asked. I can see you in the other room, you know. Off typing away. It’s alright, I understand why you brought me in here to write this. It’s common, really. People are usually disturbed when they realize that I don’t have a mouth.

**ARCHIVIST**

Statement ends.

Well then. I must admit, my first reaction to this statement was to draw parallels between this “Dorian” figure and other creatures from older statements. I assigned Sasha to this, but all statements she’s brought me haven’t quite lined up with the described behavior. But, given the placement of this experience in northern America, I can't say I'm hoping to find much more information on any surrounding occurrences in our libraries. The spreadsheets do stand out to me, however. I could have sworn there was an account of an odd programming job somewhere in the archives, but the lacking organization has proved finding it to be a challenge.

Something interesting, though, has been brought to my attention by Tim. He says that after some digging, it looks as if the blizzard that hit the Nebraska area was the Schoolhouse Blizzard of 1888. It looks as if the blizzard hit on the date listed in the titles of the spreadsheets, January 11th, 1888, drawing yet another connection between Mr. Smiles and the storm. Now we attempted to make contact with Mr. Gi-

_[DOOR OPENS]_

Oh- uhm- Martin, I’m kind of in the middle of something at the moment.

**MARTIN**

Yes- yes, I know, I know.

_[HE SETS SOMETHING ON THE DESK, PRESUMABLY A MUG]_

It’s just- it’s about the recent statement.

**ARCHIVIST**

The Gilbert case?

**MARTIN**

Yeah.

**ARCHIVIST**

Well, do tell.

**MARTIN**

Well- he contacted us. Just last week actually. Well, not _us_ , but someone in research. Got forwarded to me when I mentioned Sasha was looking into him.

**ARCHIVIST**

_(Surprised)_ Oh? What’d he say?

**MARTIN**

Not much, really. Didn’t seem all that important, but Sasha seemed to act like it was. Looks like one of those _(Lighthearted)_ ”Entrepreneurial offers”. Work from home, join a little program, etcetera, etcetera. Wouldn’t be surprised if it’s a pyramid scheme, honestly. 

**ARCHIVIST**

_(Quietly)_ Oh.

**MARTIN**

Hm?

**ARCHIVIST**

I- uh- could you forward that email to me, Martin? I’d like to take a look for myself.

**MARTIN**

Oh, well- yeah, I guess.

**ARCHIVIST**

Thank you.

_[THE DOOR SHUTS AS MARTIN LEAVES]_

_[THE ARCHIVIST SIGHS]_

Well that’s a bit... worrying.

_[PAUSE]_

Recording ends.

_[CLICK]_

**Author's Note:**

> [Jonny voice] The Magnus Archives is a podcast distributed by Rusty Quill,  
> ___
> 
> wOAH thanks for reading this like holy shit!! it honestly means a lot!! Comments do help keep me motivated and all so they're super very appreciated!! Thank you! <3


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